


Conspicuously Obscure

by fullmetalheart



Category: Persona 5
Genre: (i also dont know how to handle feelings), Comfort, F/F, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Understanding, dysfunctional gays as a side note, dysfunctional lesbians, looking at you makoto, none of them actually know how to handle feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 01:03:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19801498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullmetalheart/pseuds/fullmetalheart
Summary: “I don’t get it,” said Ann one day.“Get what?” Makoto asked.“Why you and Haru aren’t dating yet,” said Ann so casually, as if she hadn’t cheerfully dropped a bomb into Makoto’s lap to see how she would react.





	Conspicuously Obscure

**Author's Note:**

> This one is for Lee

Makoto curled her hands around her now cool cup of coffee. She took a sip and instantly regretted it.

Haru laughed at her expression.

They were sitting together in a booth at Leblanc. Books and papers were stacked around them. The smell of coffee drifted through the air.

Makoto sighed and pushed the cup away from her. A slight headache pulsed behind her left eye. They had been studying for hours, and her patience was wearing thin. The hastily scribbled notes in her notebook began to blur as her eyesight swam.

A burst of laughter made her look away from the table. Ryuji was sitting on a chair at the bar. Akira stood behind the counter with his apron still tied around his waist. They were both laughing at something on Ryuji’s phone. Akira was leaning in close, elbows propped up on the counter.

“They’re cute together, don’t you think?” said Haru.

Makoto blinked. “What do you mean?”

Haru giggled. “Just watch them for a little longer.”

Makoto turned her gaze back towards the other duo in the café. Akira was no longer looking at the phone. Instead he stared blatantly at Ryuji as the other boy smiled, eyes tracing the lines of his face like he had never seen anything quite like it before.

Makoto breathed out. “Oh.”

Haru just smiled at her, eyes twinkling.

They worked through a few more problems until Haru put her pen down.

“Do you need to take a break, Mako-chan?”

Makoto sighed. “I think I do.”

“Good, because I need to as well. I’m going to ask Akira to make us some coffee.”

With that said, Haru slipped out of the booth to go crash the two boys’ date. Not that they would call it that, but now that Makoto knew what to look for, it was definitely a date.

Makoto sighed again and pinched the bridge of her nose.

Less than a year ago, Makoto had been able to study for days on end. Ever since she had first stepped foot into the Metaverse, that endless well of focus had been traded for a sense of restlessness. Sometimes after taking a page full of notes, she would shake out her wrist the way she had in the Metaverse after a particularly good punch, but it never felt the same.

Makoto wasn’t the only one.

Sometimes Haru would pick up a shovel while she was gardening, and for a moment she could pretend it was a battle axe. Her hands were covered in dirt, not gloves, and the illusion could never last.

Haru returned to their table with two cups of coffee. Makoto couldn’t help but think that she should look out of place in a rundown café like this – with her expensive clothing and her immaculate hair – and yet, it was easy to picture her wearing an apron and working beside Akira.

Haru looked like she belonged wherever she went. Makoto thought it was oddly beautiful.

Akira left Tokyo, and Haru felt the gaping hole in her life left behind by the Metaverse only grow wider.

The Phantom Thieves began to drift apart as their lives branched out in different directions. Ann was offered an overseas modeling gig. Yusuke sold his first commissioned painting under his own name. Futaba was busy in high school being smarter than her teachers. Ryuji rejoined the track team, outpacing his peers despite the traumatic injury that should have ended his career.

Makoto and Haru were technically adults.

Haru went to university. She majored in business. She learned how to handle her father’s corporation while she dreamed of the café she would one day open.

Makoto’s future looked as dangerous as her past. Her heart was set on a career within the police department. Haru thought it suited her.

The Phantom Thieves’ group chat was as active as ever, but they rarely all met up. They all led busy lives, and the glue that had held them all together was hundreds of miles away.

Despite this, Haru and Makoto met up for lunch regularly.

They had always gravitated towards each other, always had this mutual understanding of one another. Haru felt an ease in her company that she had never felt before, not even with Akira.

So they met up for lunch. They talked and they laughed and they traded stories, while Haru really just wanted to hold her hand.

“I don’t get it,” said Ann one day. Makoto was over at her house to spend the night, because it had been three weeks since they had last seen each other, and Ann had spammed her phone until Makoto agreed to the sleepover.

Makoto watched as Ann added another coat of paint to her nails. The red was as bright as her old Metaverse outfit.

“Get what?” Makoto asked. Her own nails were drying. They were painted black.

“Why you and Haru aren’t dating yet,” said Ann so casually, as if she hadn’t cheerfully dropped a bomb into Makoto’s lap to see how she would react.

Makoto felt her face turn as red as Ann’s nails. “We’re just friends, Ann.”

Ann snorted. She capped the bottle of nail polish and blew on her nails to help them dry. Normally, Makoto would have pointed out that blowing once on her nails wasn't going to help them dry any faster, but the bomb that ticked away on her lap kept her jaw clenched in silence.

“I’ve noticed the way you look at her.”

Makoto said nothing. She stared down at her black nails. She wished she was wearing brass knuckles, so she could punch something and watch it take serious damage.

“Aaaand, I’ve noticed the way that she looks at you.”

“She doesn’t-”

“Oh yes she does.” Ann’s eyes flashed dangerously.

Makoto swallowed. “Ann, please.”

“I had a crush on you, you know.”

Makoto blinked. “What?”

Ann laughed. “It was nothing serious. It was the same as my crush on Akira. I just admired you.”

Makoto’s face got impossibly redder, and Ann was laughing at her again.

“My point is that you’re the type of person that people want. Like Akira.”

“I am definitely not anywhere close to Akira in that sense.”

“You had a crush on him too?”

“I think all of us did.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Ann leaned forward and poked her on the nose. “You’re just scary. People don’t approach you the way they approached Akira. You know you had a fan club at Shujin, right?”

“I did not.”

“You totally did!”

Akira and Shiho returned to Tokyo on the same train. When they stepped out together, Ann squealed and ran, flinging her arms around Shiho’s neck. Akira and Ryuji’s reunion was more subtle. Ryuji walked up to him and they bumped shoulders, smiling at each other.

“Gay!” shouted Futaba from her perch atop Yusuke’s shoulders. She had decided that she liked being tall. Yusuke was surprisingly accepting of this.

“Shut up!” Ryuji shouted at the same time Ann said, “You know it!”

Akira and Shiho both laughed.

Morgana’s head popped out of Akira’s bag. “Can we go now please? I want sushi.”

“Morgana says he wants sushi,” Akira announced.

Shiho squinted at him. “I still can’t tell if you’re joking when you say your cat can talk.”

Futaba laughed so hard she almost fell off of Yusuke’s shoulders.

Makoto and Haru stood side by side watching this. Their fingers were close, but never touching. If Haru had been just a bit braver, she would have leaned closer twined their fingers together.

“Thank you for the coffee,” said Makoto. She sat at the counter, inhaling the scent of her drink.

Sojiro gave her a smile. “Anytime.”

“Inari!” Futaba complained from the booth that she and Yusuke shared. “What are you even doing?”

“Playing the game,” said Yusuke. He was holding a handheld gaming console. Futaba was leaning against his shoulder, watching him play.

“If you keep doing that you’re gonna die.”

“I don’t think that I will.”

Futaba just snorted. A moment later, game over music played.

Utter disappointment showed on Yusuke’s face. “Oh.”

Futaba cracked up. “Hey Makoto! Come try this!”

Makoto obliged. She was only marginally better than Yusuke, which irritated her.

“Let me try again.”

“Nope! You only get one try. Ask Haru out and I’ll let you play again.”

Her friends needed to stop handing out conversational bombs like they were candy.

“You shouldn’t rush love in such a manner,” Yusuke chided, taking the device away from Futaba to give the game another attempt.

“Hey! You don’t get to play again either until you draw that thing I asked you to!”

Makoto was still reeling from Yusuke’s comment.

“Love!?” she blurted out.

Yusuke just looked at her. “How else would I refer to it?”

Makoto buried her face into her hands.

“It’s kind of obvious,” said Futaba.

Makoto somehow kept from screaming. “How is it obvious if I don’t even know how I feel?”

There was a moment of awkward silence. Then Futaba was patting her awkwardly on the shoulder.

“You’re smart. You’ll figure it out.”

Somehow that made Makoto want to scream even more.

“I don’t know how much more obvious I can be,” said Haru with a sigh.

Akira rolled his eyes. “Maybe you should actually tell her.”

“You tell Ryuji then,” she retorted, voice endlessly sweet.

Akira said nothing.

Haru nodded. “That’s what I thought. It’s much easier said than done, is it not?”

Akira groaned.

Makoto called Ryuji. He picked up immediately.

“Hello. I want to punch something. Do you want to come with me?”

_“Oh hell yeah.”_

They were now sitting at the gym, hot and sweaty. Ryuji leaned back on his hands, panting. Makoto was shaking out her wrists, knuckles aching from the beating she had given the punching bag.

“I don’t get it,” said Ryuji between breaths. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

Makoto sighed. “I wish I could tell you.”

They went to the beach that summer. As a group, they had managed to scrounge up enough money for a room at a resort. There were two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and seven people and one cat crammed into the space.

Ann immediately claimed the room with the bigger bathroom as the girls’ room. Akira bitched about it for a solid ten minutes, before giving in and sulking. Ryuji laughed at him. Akira gave him the finger.

Futaba set about hooking up the gaming console she had brought to the TV that resided in the tiny living area. Akira loudly announced that he would be claiming the bed in the boys’ room. Yusuke was not impressed by this.

“The three of us could just share it,” said Akira.

“Oh hell no.”

“Definitely not.”

“There would be no room for me!” said Morgana.

“Why do you automatically get a spot on the bed?” asked Ryuji.

“Because I deserve it,” said Morgana.

This set off a full-scale argument between them. Makoto had to break it up.

Futaba finally got Mario Kart up and running, and everyone started arguing about who would get to play first.

Haru turned to Makoto. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

Makoto felt something like relief bloom in her chest. She loved her friends, but being stuck with them in close quarters for an entire day was enough to make her feel suffocated.

“Yes,” said Makoto. “Let’s go.”

They slipped away as the others began their first race.

They held their shoes in their hands and walked barefoot through the sand. The scent of salt hung in the air. The sun was beginning to set, and it bathed the beach in an ethereal glow. Haru felt tension begin to unravel in her chest, replaced by a familiar and almost comfortable tug against her heart.

The light of the sun danced in Makoto’s eyes, and she could not stop staring.

Makoto paused to watch the waves lap at her toes. She took a deep breath and felt a nervous twist in her stomach.

“Haru, I-”

“I like you,” said Haru simply.

Three words and Makoto’s entire world screeched to a halt. A bizarre combination of emotions warred within her. Some distant part of her glowed with joy, but her nervousness reared its head, and she had to remind herself how to breathe.

“Mako-chan?” Haru asked, and Makoto realized that she had been standing there without saying anything for a few seconds.

She looked up at Haru, and her breath caught in her throat.

“You’re perfect,” she blurted out.

Haru’s cheeks turned pink. Makoto felt her own face burning.

“I mean- I think I might like you too,” Makoto said hastily. She paused. “I just…” she trailed off, eyes darting back down to the sand.

“You need time,” said Haru. Her voice was soft, and her eyes were so terribly understanding. She was _perfect_. Makoto almost wanted to cry.

“Yes,” Makoto admitted. Guilt swallowed her nerves.

Haru only smiled. “That’s okay. I can wait. I like us how we are.” She held out her hand to Makoto. “Let’s go back.”

Makoto took a second to gather herself. Then she reached forward and threaded her fingers through Haru’s.

“Okay.”

They walked back with their hands swinging in between them.

**Author's Note:**

> Love isn't about kissing. Love isn't about dates or making out. Love is about patience. Love is about compassion and mutual understanding, and being willing to find each other at the end of everything. Or at least, that's my opinion anyway.


End file.
